


Loud and Clear

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 05:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15308250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: Dean’s been avoiding Sam and Jess all night. He feels like shit for it, they are the couple of the evening after all, but he’s afraid they’re going to want to meet his date. The date he absolutely doesn’t not have.





	Loud and Clear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [howboutnovak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/howboutnovak/gifts).



> Originally posted to tumblr Sept 22, 2014. (Just realized it was never cross posted. Go me!)

Dean’s been avoiding Sam and Jess all night. He feels like shit for it, they are the couple of the evening after all, but he’s afraid they’re going to want to meet his date. The date he absolutely doesn’t not have.

Three months ago, when Jess had asked Dean if he’d be bringing a plus one to the wedding, he’d said yes. At that time, he’d reasoned three months was plenty of time to find a date.

Now it’s the night before the wedding and while Dean doubts it’s really that big of a deal, he doesn’t want to disappoint them. They’d both seemed so happy to hear he’d be bringing someone along.

To make matters worse, the first person Dean saw when he’d arrived at the rehearsal dinner was a guy he absolutely despises.

Castiel J. Novak. Yeah, the J. was important, apparently.

He’s a mutual friend of Sam and Jess’, a guy they’d gone to law school with, and the handful of times Dean’s met him, the guy’s been a pretentious, smart mouthed, asshole; always looking at Dean with his mouth pulled into a frown, like he doesn’t approve of Sam’s less educated older brother who’s perfectly content with working on cars for the rest of his life rather than feeling like he needs a fancy law degree to feel like someone important.

So yeah. So far Dean’s night has been hell; most of it spent glaring at the back of Castiel  _J._  Novak’s head.

Knowing he can’t avoid the happy couple forever, Dean goes easily when Jess catches his eye and motions him over to the drink table where she and Sam are taking a breather from accepting well wishes for their future together. It’s finally time to bite the bullet and confess, he decides.

“Dean! I feel like I haven’t seen you all night!” Jess says, pulling Dean in for a hug when he comes to stand in front of her and Sam.

“Didn’t want to be in the way,” Dean offers.

“You’re not in the way, Dean.” Sam counters, and Dean can practically hear his brother proverbially rolling his eyes.

Dean shrugs.

“So where are they?” Jess asks, her eyes bright.

Dean swallows and offers his soon-to-be sister-in-law a sheepish grin. “Where are who?” Nobody ever said playing dumb was a good idea, but it will certainly prolong the conversation for just a bit longer, and at this point, Dean will take whatever he can get.

Jess lets out a laugh. “Your date.”

“Oh, right. My date. They’re uh-” as Dean’s brain scrambles for an explanation a figure looms next to him. The guy’s probably just there to refill his drink, but knowing immediately who it is by the stiff posture and smell of tea tree, Dean grabs the man’s arm and tugs him over.

“Cas,” Dean says, “Castiel J. Novak is my date.”

Jess and Sam’s eyes flit back and forth between Dean and Castiel dumbfoundedly, and Dean hopes to high heaven his terribly idiotic plan isn’t about to bite him in the ass. So many things could go wrong at this point, Castiel could actually have a date here, waiting for him to return with drinks, or the guy could just outright deny it, making Dean look like an even bigger fool, but Dean’s grip tightens around the man’s arm, begging him to understand.

It feels like none of them are breathing, Sam and Jess both knowing how Dean and Castiel feel about one another, Dean pleading with the universe not to slap him directly in the face, and Castiel probably still shocked at Dean’s lie.

Finally though, blessed, fucking  _finally_ Castiel directs a stiff nod at Sam and Jess.

“Yes.” His gravelly voice rumbles, and damn him for feeling the need to talk because despite Dean’s burning hatred for the other guy, there are a few things about him that really sends excitement zipping through Dean’s veins and that voice is one of them. (Another is his bright, unbearably blue eyes, and his perpetual bed head, but those are an entirely different story for an entirely different day. One Dean hopes never surfaces because even thinking about those things now is making him feel jittery.) “Dean and I are-” he flashes a glance at Dean, and Dean nods encouragingly, thanking him profusely with his eyes. “on a date. For your wedding. My boyfriend, Dean. And I. On a date.” The words come out awkwardly.

Dean lets out an overzealous laugh and scratches at the back of his neck. Did Castiel just say  _boyfriend_? Because that is so beyond the impression Dean ever intended to give.

Dean stares at Sam and Jess, waiting for them to laugh in their faces, but Jess just squeals and pulls Castiel in for a hug while Sam claps Dean on the shoulder.

 " _Boyfriend_? Why didn’t you guys tell us you were dating?“ he asks, his grin impossibly large.

"Wanted it to be a surprise,” Dean wheezes.

“I don’t know why, but seeing you guys together makes everything that much more perfect. I was afraid Dean would never warm up to you, Cas.” Jess’ voice is all glow-y and excited.

Dean feels like he’s going to hurl.

“People can change,” Castiel chimes in just as Dean’s beginning to wonder what Jess meant by her statement. Castiel offers Dean a look and is that…  _warmth_  he sees in Castiel’s eyes?

“Well this is awesome you guys, congratulations!” Sam’s mammoth hands fall on Dean and Castiel’s shoulders and he squeezes.

Dean nods. “Thanks, Sammy.”

An awkward silence settles in the air, the four of them blinking at each other. After a beat, Castiel rests his hand over Dean’s where it’s still curled around Castiel’s arm and pats it.

“We should get back to our table, Dean.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. We’ll uh- we’ll see you guys later.” Dean offers the couple a wave and allows Castiel to maneuver the two of them away from the drink table.

 They’re just out of ear shot when Castiel spins Dean around, pushing him into a dark corner.

“Dean, what are you doing?” He hisses. “You don’t even like me.”

Dean folds his arms over his chest because, yeah, he’s not falling for that gimmick. Of course Castiel would play the innocent scorned. “You mean,  _we_ don’t even like _each other_.”

Castiel frowns. It’s different than his usual frown, but it’s a frown all the same. “I never said I don’t like you.”

“You frown at me all the time, man! You’re doing it right now for hell’s sake. You didn’t have to say it. I can read it on your face. And besides; I’m not the one who went and told them we’re  _dating_!”

“I panicked!” Castiel nearly shouts, his hands flying in the air. “I was unaware I was about to participate in a lie to a couple of my dearest friends.”

“Yeah well, I panicked too,” Dean admits. He runs a hand over his mouth, the other going to his hip.

“Why did you lie to them, Dean?” Castiel wonders, his voice going quiet and soft around the edges.

Dean does not want to have this conversation. Especially with Castiel J. freaking Novak who’s probably going to get so much pleasure out of Dean’s embarrassment it’s enraging. “I didn’t have a date,” Dean finally mutters, “and they thought I did.” He looks Castiel square in the eye. “I’m sorry, Cas. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Yes, well, you best figure it out, Dean, because now we have to attend your brother’s wedding tomorrow as a couple.”

Dean nods and lets his head fall back, thunking against the wall softly. “I know,” he states.

~

The Winchester-Moore wedding takes place early in the morning the following day. It’s an all day event with the ceremony first, followed by a luncheon for close friends and family, and concluding with a reception down town.

Dean picks Castiel up from his house - having suggested the night before it might make more sense for them to arrive together - and the first few minutes of the drive is the most stilted stretch of time Dean can recall to date. Instead of an elephant in the cab it feels like there’s a whole fucking zoo and the space between them feels entirely too small.

“So uh- you think we should get to know each other a little better?” Dean asks, “You know, so we can pull this off?”

Castiel turns his gaze on Dean, eyes shining in the sunlight, popping against the weighty black of his suit. “What would you like to know?” he asks.

Dean shrugs, his eyes flicking down to the skinny black tie Cas is wearing that mirrors Dean’s own. Dean’s the best man today and Castiel a groomsmen so they’re dressed to match. For some reason though, where Dean feels stuffy, Castiel looks… smoldering. And dammit that’s just one more thing Dean can add to the list of Things He Gets Excited Over When Castiel J. Novak is Around.  "I don’t know. What kind of music do you like? Do you have any hobbies? How many siblings do you have? That sort of thing. You know, couple-y things. Things I’d know about you if we really were a couple.“

Castiel seems to give his answers some honest thought before offering them to Dean. "I like all kinds of music, but lately have found myself favoring hip hop. I enjoy knitting and art, and I’m the youngest of seven children. All lawyers, all working at the same firm, all married.”

Dean doesn’t even know where to start with all that information. He’s still processing hip hop, and knitting, and  _seven siblings_ , when they roll to a red light.

As they idle, he decides to start with the music. “Hip hop, huh? Didn’t have you pegged as a hip hop guy.” Dean offers Castiel a smile; why, he’s not sure, maybe it’s because of the bitterness Dean heard in Cas’ voice when he talked about his family, or how seriously he seems to be taking Dean’s questions, but Castiel returns the smile all the same.

It’s nice seeing Castiel smile, and for hating the guy so much, Dean sure does feel all warm and fond watching the corners of Castiel’s mouth pull up.

 "And what’s with the knitting? Your grandma make you learn or something?“

"No. I picked it up on my own. I find it very cathartic.”

“Huh.”

When they arrive at the church and Dean refuses to allow valet to take his car, Castiel rolls his eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Dean. Just let them take your car. It’s much quicker.”

And to think they had gone a whole fifteen minutes without Dean feeling like punching the guy square in the face.

“Nobody drives Baby but me, Cas.” Dean bites out. “You want me to drop you off at the door, fine, but I’m not doing valet.”

Castiel’s lips pull into a thin line, but he doesn’t speak.

Inside the church is a madhouse. There are people everywhere, some Dean recognizes as the bridal party, other’s he’s never seen before in his life.

As soon as she catches sight of them, the maid-of-honor whisks them into their appropriate places and Dean breathes easy for a minute. This is the easy part. He and Castiel aren’t walking down the aisle as a couple, and for that Dean is grateful.

The ceremony is simple. Sam and Jess are both beaming, radiant on their special day, and though Dean and Castiel are sitting next to one another, no talking is required which Dean counts as another win. Halfway through the ceremony though, Castiel reaches for Dean’s hand, lacing their fingers together and letting their conjoined hands rest on his thigh.

“What are you doing?” Dean jeers out of the corner of his mouth.

Castiel leans in close, his lips right next to Dean’s ear. “I’m doing couple-y things, Dean. Relax.”

At that moment Sam glances over at them and Dean offers his brother a weak smile.

The feeling of Cas’ hand in his own isn’t completely terrible, especially the way he’s rubbing his thumb over Dean’s, and Dean reasons he can probably bear it for at least a few more minutes. Probably.

When the ceremony comes to an end Dean nearly lets out an audible sigh of relief. One event down, two more to go, and then he and Cas can go about their lives, forgetting this ever happened. They’ll have to come up with a break up story of course, but Dean’s not against the idea of just calling it an amenable parting of ways and leaving it at that.

On the way to the luncheon (why Sam and Jess had to pick three different locations for their wedding Dean will never understand, but whatever, he loves the pair of them so he can’t complain too much) Castiel is mostly quiet again. His hands, with their long slender fingers, grip his knees as they drive, almost like he’s nervous. There’s something black around Castiel’s nail beds, but Dean’s attention is drawn from them when Castiel speaks.

“Did I tell you how nice you look in your suit, Dean?” he asks. His voice sounds as if it was scraped from his vocal chords and Dean’s sure it’s probably just as hard for Castiel to be nice to Dean as it is for Dean to be nice to Cas.

Against his will a heat raises in Dean’s cheeks that has him cursing himself silently.  _It’s just a damn compliment, Dean, get over it. He probably doesn’t even mean it._ “Thanks,” he mutters, “you too.”

“I feel like I look foolish,” Castiel admits, a breathy laugh escaping his lips.

Dean glances at him. “What? No, you look great. Really. Besides, aren’t you used to wearing shit like this? You  _are_  a lawyer. I thought their dress code had to be, y'know, polished or whatever.”

Castiel’s eyes swivel towards Dean, but Dean can’t hold the other guy’s gaze for long. It’s too invasive. “I suppose you’re right. I should be used to this sort of attire.” His voice sounds almost sad, defeated in a way. Regretful.

“Did I say something jerky?” Dean asks.

Castiel’s voice is quiet as he responds with a gentle, “No.”

For some reason, despite Castiel’s answer, Dean doesn’t believe him.

The luncheon is less frantic than the ceremony was, but only slightly so. The same people that seemed to be running around at the church are now running around, dipping their fingers in food, checking ice levels on the punch, and giving the wait staff firm instructions on how things are to go.

Dean and Castiel steer themselves out of the way, their hands finding each other’s again as they walk -  _more couple-y things_ , Dean thinks - and they find their names at the same table as Sam and Jess.

As they sit Dean doesn’t feel as tightly wound as he did that morning. He’s starting to relax around Castiel, which is a joke, the guy’s probably going to do something shitty just because Dean’s starting to warm up to him, but whatever shitty thing Dean thinks that is, it doesn’t happen.

Castiel is kind whenever he speaks to Dean, his eyes soft and crinkled when they reminisce on the time Sam lost his shoe in a sewer, and by the end of the luncheon Dean’s beginning to think maybe he’s been reading Cas wrong all this time. He hasn’t even frowned in several hours.

Between the luncheon and the reception they have a few hours to kill. Dean considers taking Castiel home and picking him back up on the way to the reception, but with the amount of gas and time it’d take to get there and back it feels like too much work.

“You got anywhere you need to be?” Dean asks instead.

Castiel shakes his head. “I’m yours for the day.”

Dean’s caught off guard by how much he likes the sound of that. Why does he like the sound of that? He should  _not_  like the sound of that. Fucking asshole lawyer making Dean question everything he thought he ever knew.

“I’ve gotta pick up a few things before the reception tonight if you don’t mind tagging along.”

“Alright,” Castiel agrees.

With that, Dean points them in the direction of the nearest grocery store.

When they arrive and have climbed out of the Impala, Dean shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it into the back seat, and loosens his tie until he can pull it over his head. It joins the suit coat, and then Dean is unbuttoning the first few buttons of his dress shirt until he finally feels like he can breathe again.

“What is it we’re getting here?” Castiel asks, his eyes flirting with Dean’s newly exposed collarbone. His tongue darts out to run over his lips and Dean looks away, forcing himself not to track the movement.

“I need supplies,” he answers, being vague on purpose. Castiel’s a lawyer; he should be able to read between the lines, right?

Apparently Castiel does not read between the lines because he asks, “What kind of supplies?”

Dean grabs for a cart just inside the entrance and moves to push it further into the store. “If you have to know, I’m getting things to trash Sam and Jess’ car tonight. It’s my right as the best man to do so.”

Castiel clicks his tongue.“Dean that’s childish.”

Dean bites at his bottom lip and smiles, nodding mischievously at Castiel. “I know.”

Castiel huffs, but doesn’t offer up anything else so Dean makes his way towards the appropriate aisle to get the first of the supplies he needs.

With the cart full of everything Dean thinks he needs they make their way to the register and unload the items onto the counter.

When the cashier is finished ringing everything up, Dean reaches for his wallet, but Castiel stops him.

“Let me.” He says.

“It’s cool, Cas, I can get it.”

Castiel’s hand doesn’t move from where it’s gripping Dean’s arm. “Just let me get it, Dean. I  _am_  the lawyer after all.”

Dean’s hand falls to his side, Castiel’s grip slipping away, and Dean scowls. “What, I can’t handle it because I don’t have a white collar job like you? Is that what you’re saying, Cas?”

This. This is the shit Dean was anticipating.

Castiel’s brows are pulling into that all too familiar frown now and Dean hates the guy all over again.

“Why is it okay for you to call me a lawyer and make jabs at it, but when I do it it’s offensive to you?” Castiel asks. His voice is pitched lower than Dean’s ever hear it and fuck him if it isn’t sexy. Asshole lawyer or not.

“I don’t know,” Dean bites back, “your tone was just-” he doesn’t even have a word for what Cas’ tone was so instead he waves his hand in Cas’ direction like it should explain everything.

On the other side of the counter, the cashier remains very quiet. Dean can feel her gaze on he and Castiel and it probably sounds like they’re in the middle of a lover’s quarrel, but Dean’s too worked up to care.

After a moment Castiel sighs, his tall, lean figure deflating right before Dean’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he says, “That isn’t what I meant. I only meant-” He heaves a sigh, heavy, like it came from the bottom of his chest and starts again. “I’d like to take care of the cost is all. Please, Dean.”

Cas sounds genuine enough and before Dean even gives his head permission it’s nodding. “Yeah, okay.”

Castiel quirks a small grin at Dean. “Thank you, Dean.”

By the time they’re finished at the store it’s nearly time for the reception to start. They head back, Castiel not even urging Dean to use the valet this time, and enter the building with their shoulders brushing. It should probably bother Dean more than it does.

Inside the lighting is low and there are obvious touches of Sam and Jess everywhere. It makes Dean smile a little, knowing this is something the two of them spent so much time planning together, and he’s distracted enough that when Castiel slips his hand into Dean’s, the only thought Dean gives it is,  _this guy sure does like to hold hands_.

They’re quick to find Sam and Jess, congratulating them for what feels like the eighteenth time today, and then Dean is heading to the bar, turning to Cas only as an afterthought and asking if he wants anything.

“Whatever you’re having will be fine, Dean, thank you.”

“Even if I’m having a Purple Nurple?”

Castiel’s brow furrows in confusion as his head tilts to the side, and Dean thinks  _Adorable_  followed instantly by  _Shut the hell up, Winchester, Castiel J. Novak is not adorable_.

“What’s a Purple Nurple?”

Dean brushes it off. “Forget it. I’ll be back, okay?”

“Alright.”

Minutes later and with drinks in hand Dean heads back to the table. Castiel is alone, his eyes scanning the room, and Dean takes a moment to observe him. Not talking to anyone Castiel looks less formal, but only slightly so, almost like he wants to relax, but isn’t sure if it’s okay.

His usual air of confidence seems less prominent from where Dean’s standing, and he’s struck again by how different Castiel seems compared to the image Dean’s had of him since they first met.

At the table Dean sets the drinks down and Castiel offers him one of the warm, crinkle-eyed smiles Dean’s starting to crave more of. Dean sits down next to him and takes a sip of his drink while Castiel fiddles with his glass.

Dean’s eyes are drawn to Castiel’s hands and he notices the black again, not only outlining his nails, but in some of the crevices in his hands as well. When Castiel catches him staring, he pulls his hands away from the glass and settles them in his lap.

“I can never get it all off,” Castiel explains.

“What is it?”

“Artist’s chalk. My parents have never approved of the hobby; they say it makes me look grimy and that it’s not a respectable activity, but-” Castiel looks down at the table briefly before meeting Dean’s eyes again, “I’ve always loved to draw and paint.”

“Well fuck what they think,” Dean blurts. He doesn’t understand why he’s feeling angry on Castiel’s behalf, but he is. “If you like to do it then to hell with what everyone else says.”

Castiel gives Dean a half smile. “I wish it were that easy,” he quips.

Suddenly things feel very weighty between them and Dean feels like he has to do something about it. Almost like a poke in the back a song starts up in the background and Dean flashes Castiel a grin.

“You wanna dance, Cas?”

Castiel shrugs. “I suppose that’s what couples do at weddings, isn’t it?”

Dean chuckles. “Probably.”

He stands from his chair and offers Castiel his hand, leading the other man out to the dance floor. As they walk a nervous flutter beats in Dean’s chest. They’re about to breach that awkward who’s-hands-go-where moment as two guys dancing together, but without any trouble at all Castiel wraps a hand around Dean’s and places his other on Dean’s shoulder. It feels easy, comfortable, and with Dean’s brain still reeling at how not-awkward things turned out to be, Castiel begins to sway to the music.  

“I feel like I don’t know anything about you, Dean.” Castiel says as they dance, “Tell me about yourself.”

Under the scrutiny of Castiel’s gaze a shiver runs along Dean’s spine. “I’m kind of a boring guy,” he replies, but Castiel shakes his head.

“I doubt that. Please; tell me something. I want to know.”

Dean thinks for a moment, trying not to allow his brain to get stuck on the fact that he’s dancing at his brother’s wedding with Castiel J. Novak, and not hating it. “I used to wrestle in high school, "Dean finally offers, "I was the best in my weight class.”

Castiel’s eyes practically glow with interest. “Tell me more,” he requests.

Before he even realizes what’s happening Dean’s launching into all sorts of random information about himself. He talks about everything from the first time he met Jess to how much he’s looking forward to owning his own mechanic shop someday.

“I can tell you really love what you do,” Castiel says when Dean finally takes a moment to breathe.

The statement comes off as odd to Dean as he’s always been under the impressoin Castiel thought lesser of Dean because of his job. “Really? ‘Cause I always thought you think what I do is crap,” Dean admits.

Castiel shakes his head. “Quite the opposite, Dean, I’m intrigued. You’re doing what you love no matter the salary. I wish I were brave enough to do that.”

“What'dya mean, you wish you were brave enough to do that?”

“I come from a family of lawyers, Dean. My father is a lawyer, my mother, grandparents, and all of my siblings are lawyers. It’s what the Novaks  _do_. To go against that, to disobey? It’s unheard of in my family.”

Learning this about Castiel almost feels like, ever since he met the guy, Dean’s been trying to jam the wrong key into a key hole. But now, he’s being presented with the right key and it slides right into place, unlocking the door and showing Dean an entirely different view.

Suddenly all the scowling Castiel does, all the glowers and frowns, and holier-than-thou comments make more sense to Dean. Castiel isn’t an asshole, not on purpose anyway, he’s  _unhappy_.

“What do you want to do instead?” Dean wonders.

 Castiel’s cheeks flush ever so slightly. “I want to be an artist,” he admits, “I know it isn’t a stable job and I may not ever make money off of it, but it’s my passion.”

His eyes are shining and Dean feels warm again.

“So I gotta ask; what’s up with the J. in your name?” They remain on the dance floor as the current song ends and another begins.

Castiel shakes his head and huffs a laugh. “I hate the J. actually. My father suggested it sounded more dignified. He said clients would take me more seriously if I used my middle initial.”

“I’m beginning to think your dad gives the worst advice ever,” Dean says.

“I’ve been thinking that for awhile now.”

They fall quiet for a moment, staring at one another through the easy silence. “May I ask a question?” Castiel inquires after some time.

“Shoot.”

“Last night at the rehearsal dinner, you said we hated each other. Do you really believe I’ve hated you all this time?”

Dean feels like a mouse caught in a trap with the way Castiel’s eyes are boring into him. “Didn’t you?” he finally wonders out loud.

Castiel shakes his head. “Why would I hate you?”

“I don’t know; I just felt like maybe you found me lacking or something.” Dean shrugs. “Whenever you were around you were always kind of… cold.” Now Dean understand the coldness more realistically, but admitting to Castiel the impression he’s had all along feels something like unloading a weight he’s been carrying around in his chest.

At least now Cas has a chance to explain himself whether he hates Dean or not.

“Dean, I’ve never hated you. I find you irritating at times, you’re incredibly arrogant, and you listen to your rock music far too loud, but I never hated you. Quite the opposite actually.”

Dean frowns. “What does that mean?”

Castiel opens his mouth to answer, but he’s cut off by everyone being called to attention by the DJ. She thanks everyone for being there and then calls Dean and the maid-of-honor to the stage for their toasts.

Dean and Castiel stop dancing. “Guess that’s my cue,” Dean mutters.

Castiel smiles at him. “Good luck,” he says before gently brushing his lips along Dean’s cheek bone.

Dean’s rooted to the spot for a split second before Castiel is gently pushing him along. He walks to the stage in a daze, replaying Cas’s lips on his skin over and over again until he’s being handed a mic and turned towards all the eyes that are now on him.

Luckily Dean rehearsed his speech into the ground and he recites it without a hitch. People laugh in all the right places, Jess wipes a tear from her eye when he gets sentimental, and when he’s finished he passes the mic along to the maid-of-honor, and jumps off the stage, slotting himself into Sam’s widespread arms.

“I love you, you big moose,” Dean mumbles against his brother’s shoulder.

Sam huffs a laugh. “I love you too, Dean.”

Dean wiggles out of Sam’s grip then and offers Jess a kiss on the cheek and then he’s joining Castiel back on the dance floor to listen to the maid-of-honor’s speech.

 The reception lasts a few more hours, part of which Dean spends outside with Castiel, tagging Sam and Jess’ car despite Castiel’s declarations of, “I want no part in this, Dean.” In the end Castiel relents and draws a large penis on Sam’s window with a silly grin on his face.

When Sam and Jess finally leave the reception hall, Dean reasons it’s time to take Castiel home.

They’re idling by the curb of Castiel’s house when Dean clears his throat. “I’m sorry I thought you hated me, and I’m sorry I thought I hated you too.” He says.

Castiel smiles at him. The cab is dark, but Dean can see the flash of Castiel’s teeth. “Thank you.”

“I hope someday you get to be an artist. I’ll bet you’d kick ass at it.”

“That means a lot to me, Dean. Thank you.”

“I mean it, Cas. You’re actually a decent guy. It sucks you’re doing something you don’t love. I really hope things work out.”

Castiel shifts in his seat. “Dean at the reception, when I said I didn’t hate you, I wanted to tell you that I actually-” Castiel stops, inhaling a deep breath; “I actually really like you. That’s why I’m always so stiff around you. I never know what to say.”

Dean feels like he can’t breathe. For every way Dean saw this day going, this was never, not even in his wildest dreams or his deepest nightmares, an option.

“What is it you wanted to say?” he asks quietly.

Castiel doesn’t speak, only reaches a hand across the cab and fists the lapels of Dean’s suit coat in his hands. There’s a brief pause before Castiel’s warm, chapped lips are pressing against Dean’s and Dean nearly flips the fuck out.

He’s kissing Castiel J. Novak, he’s kissing Castiel J.-  _No._  He’s kissing  _Cas_. The Cas that was there all along, the one Dean never took the time to see.

Castiel lets out a breathy, little moan. His mouth is insistent, his tongue wicked as it works its way into Dean’s mouth, and Dean smiles.

 Maybe  _this_  is what’s been building all this time. Maybe it wasn’t hatred at all, but attraction, curiosity,  _interest_.

Dean shuts his brain off for a minute and allows himself to feel everything from the way Cas kisses like it’s the most important thing the two of them will ever do together to the way one of Dean’s hands is gravitating towards Castiel’s hair.

A beat later they pull apart, Castiel panting lightly and Dean swiping a hand across his mouth. He shoots a lazy grin at Castiel. “You may never have known what to say, Cas, but I sure heard that loud and clear.”

“I’m sorry I waited so long,” Castiel breathes.

Dean rubs a thumb over Castiel’s cheek bone and the other man presses into it with a smile on his face.

“I’m gonna take the initiative here and say, let’s not do anymore waiting, huh?”

Castiel nods, wrapping a hand around Dean’s neck and pulling him back in. “Agreed,” he says.

~

Two weeks later Dean is there for Cas when he quits his job at his dad’s firm. In celebration they take a week-long vacation to Hawaii, consummating their new relationship and Castiel’s recent-found freedom.

The trip is paid for with the money Castiel’s parents had given him to start his own firm.

Six months later Castiel sells his first painting and Dean brags to everyone about how he has the most talented boyfriend in the whole world.


End file.
